Page 29 of Consummation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #3)

Twenty-One

Kat

I wake up with a start. Josh’s arm is around me.

I’m in a warm bed.

I glance around the moonlit room, momentarily confused about my whereabouts.

Oh, yeah—now I remember. The hotel room where Josh and I let our sick fucks run amok with Bridgette.

Delicious .

But I’ve no sooner had that highly pleasant thought than bile rises in my throat and my mouth waters. Shit.

In a flash, I disentangle myself from Josh’s muscular arm and bolt out of bed, straight into the bathroom—where I proceed to hurl every Saltines cracker and drop of fluid out of my body with loud, ghastly heaves. Oh, God. I’m so gross. Gah.

I flush the toilet and whimper. I feel like I’m made of cardboard, not flesh and blood. I need to eat something right now or else I’m gonna die.

I wash out my mouth, rinse my face, and hobble back into the bedroom, expecting to find Josh sitting up in bed and staring at me, aghast at the horrendous noises I just made in the bathroom. But, somehow, Josh is still fast asleep, completely oblivious to the T-Rex I just wrestled in the toilet.

I stand over Josh’s beautiful sleeping body for a moment, looking at his peaceful face in the moonlight.

Normally, when I think of Josh, the first word that pops into my mind is sexy .

Typically followed by funny . And generous soon thereafter.

But right now, standing over his striking features in the moonlight, the only word coming to my mind is beautiful .

I sigh.

I love him.

With all my heart and soul.

More than I ever thought possible.

And I’m aching to exchange the words with him—to finally give full voice to my overwhelming feelings for him.

My stomach clenches hungrily, drawing me out of my Josh-induced stupor, so I pad carefully out of the darkened room to the main room of the suite, desperate to find something to eat.

I flip on a lamp and instantly spot a room-service tray on a table, so I head over there like a starving hyena looking for a carcass.

Along with utensils and tiny salt-and-pepper shakers, there’s a handwritten note on the tray: “Mr. Faraday, per your request, an assortment of cold-food selections are in the refrigerator. Please let us know if you require anything further.”

I make a “yay” face to myself and happily beeline over to the refrigerator.

Sweet Baby Jesus, I’ve hit the mother lode. If I didn’t already love Josh, I would have just fallen in love with him. How’d he know to have food waiting for me when I woke up? Is he some sort of pregnant-woman whisperer?

For a solid fifteen minutes, I’m a ravenous animal, stuffing food into my mouth with both fists and making “nom nom nom” sounds in the quiet room like Homer Simpson at a doughnut shop—and when I’m done eating and feeling fan-fucking-tastic again, a steely determination suddenly washes over me: It’s time to get my man.

I head back into the dark bedroom and fumble around in the moonlight until I find my laptop.

I scroll into my music and stop when I see Audra Mae, my new obsession.

“Addicted to You” with Aviici leaps out at me from my song list. Oh, how I want to make love to Josh to this redonkulously awesome song—but I’ll just have to wait.

Josh and I have already confessed we’re addicted to each other—now it’s time for us to take our words to the next level.

But to get Josh over the line, I’m thinking I’m gonna need a song that’ll beat Josh over the head with an “I love you” sledge hammer—a song that leaves absolutely no room for misunderstanding.

As I scroll through my music, I realize I’ve got lots of options—the lyrics “I love you” aren’t exactly a rare commodity when it comes to pop music—but I stop scrolling when I see “1234” by the Plain White T’s.

I absolutely love this sweet little song—and the lyrics are so literal, Josh would have to be a pill bug not to catch their meaning.

I set the song to play on a loop, tiptoe slowly to the bed, and, as the song begins, slip naked under the covers onto my left side, facing Josh.

When I slide my arm over Josh’s sleeping body, his skin is warm and smooth.

Delectable. I nuzzle Josh’s nose with mine and kiss his soft lips and run my fingertips over the ridges in his abs.

Gently, ever so gently, I stroke his dick from his balls to his tip, and then stroke his shaft with the barest of touches, and the sensation of him hardening in my hand, even before he’s fully awakened, ignites me.

I throw my leg over Josh’s hip and slip his full length inside me and ride him slowly, reaching between my legs to feel him slipping in and out of me as I do, and in no time at all, Josh’s lips find my neck, his warm hands find my breasts and belly and hips and clit, his tongue slips inside my moaning mouth, and his movement inside me deepens and intensifies.

And all the while, the Plain White T’s sing those three little words repeatedly, telling Josh exactly how I feel—and more importantly, instructing him there’s only one thing to do: say “I love you.”

“Kat,” Josh breathes. “I missed you.”

Not the words I’m hoping for, but this feels so damned good, I don’t even care.

I gyrate my hips passionately, coaxing Josh to his release, but, much to my surprise, Josh pulls out of me, pushes me onto my back, and begins pleasuring me in every conceivable way.

He kisses my breasts and neck and face and runs his hands over my thighs and sucks on my fingers and toes and kisses my inner thighs, and, finally, laps at me with his warm, wet tongue, licking my clit with particular fervor.

A warm and delicious orgasm rolls through me, almost lazily, like it’s taking its time on a quiet Sunday afternoon.

Finally, Josh slips inside me again and gyrates on top of me until he comes, too, just as the Plain White T’s are telling him, as explicitly as song lyrics can possibly do, it’s time for him to freaking tell me he loves me already.

When we’re done, we lie nose to nose for a long moment, stroking each other’s warm skin in the dark.

“Did you choose this song or was it the next song on your playlist?” he asks .

“I chose it. Because of its lyrics. Specifically. For you.”

There’s a beat.

Josh takes a deep breath. “I love you, Kat.”

Every hair on my body stands on end. Thank you, Baby Jesus in the Manger.

“I love you more than the air I breathe,” Josh continues. “More than life itself. I love you so, so much, Kat.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Thank you, God. I throw my arms around Josh’s neck and kiss the hell out of him. “I love you, too,” I blurt. “I love you, Josh. Oh my God. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Josh clutches me fiercely. “I love you with all my heart and soul, Kat.”

“I love you to the moon and back again,” I say.

Josh is trembling, covering my face and neck with kisses. “I love you more than I knew was even possible,” he says.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” I reply.

“No one’s ever said those words to me before,” he whispers. “Thank you. Oh my God, thank you.”

“What?” I say, but my words are muffled by his furious lips.

“I love you,” he says, over and over, kissing me without reprieve.

I laugh and cry at the same time, I’m so completely flooded with joy. “I can’t live without you,” I murmur into his lips. “I can’t breathe without you. I can’t—”

Josh pulls away from kissing me. “Move in with me, Kat,” he blurts.

My heart leaps. I don’t even need to think about it. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“ Yes .”

He kisses me voraciously, yet again.

Damn, I wish I could see Josh’s beautiful blue eyes right now, but the room is too dark. “Are you sure?” I ask, and immediately regret it. Why am I giving Josh a chance to worm out of his offer? Stupid Kat!

But my worry is for nothing—Josh thrills me with his immediate and confident reply: “I’m sure,” he says. “I can’t live without you. I love you more than life itself. ”

I exhale and hug him fervently. “I love you,” I gasp. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I can’t stand being away from you,” he says. “I want to sleep with you every night. I want to wake up to the sight of you every morning. I want to take care of you—to make all your dreams come true.”

“Oh my God. I’m gonna explode,” I say, tears rising in my eyes.

“When can you move in?”

“Right away.”

“Oh my God,” he says. He’s panting. “This is gonna be awesome.”

He’s shaking like a leaf. Is that anxiety or joy coursing through his veins? I wish I could see his face.

“I haven’t even met with the interior designer for my house yet,” Josh says breathlessly.

“We’ll decorate the place together. It’ll be our house, Kat—with our baby—yeah, and we’ll make one of the rooms a nursery, and you can decorate it however you like and we’ll live together and raise our kid and we’ll be happy .

” He’s rambling maniacally, practically gasping for air, stroking my face feverishly.

It’s like the Hoover Dam has broken inside him and a pent-up reservoir of words and feelings is gushing out of him all at once.

“We’ll be together because we want to be,” Josh continues, his words pouring out of him like a torrent.

“Because we love each other. We won’t need a piece of paper to make our commitment official.

” He abruptly stops talking. His voice quavers.

“Right? We love each other and that’s all we need? ” He swallows audibly. “Right?”

“I don’t need a piece of paper,” I say soothingly. “All I need is you, Josh. If you promise to love me and our baby the best way you know how, that’s enough for me.”

He exhales a huge breath. “I promise. I’ll love you and our baby. That’s what I can give you.”

“Then that’s enough.”

He’s panting now. “I want you to live with me, babe—I want you to be all mine.”

“I will be. I am.”

“Promise?” He’s trembling against me.

“I promise.”